


A Name

by Insazy



Series: Among Us [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Expect it everywhere, Gen, I like dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-04 23:13:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12781713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insazy/pseuds/Insazy
Summary: The young man who resided in the Crystal has finally given Regis his name.But he has also given Regis even more questions.





	A Name

**Author's Note:**

> So, with my 5 minute search of the internet, I could not find the exact wording of the Prophecy for the game, so what ya'll get is me destroying all notions of canon. 
> 
> I will find it eventually, most likely after I've written all the parts that pertain to it. That way I can stare at it and regret the words I wrote haha. Nah, I'm kidding. I'm rewriting some Astral history without giving away the whole story, so all you get is little confusing bits.

Regis runs, the harsh clip of his feet echoing down the hallway. He had just left Aulea in their bedroom, reassuring her that he would only be gone for, at most, a half hour. He had closed to door with her worried face in his periphery. Now, as he speeds his way towards his office, he thinks.

The Crystal had broken, shattered, like it was made of the stained glass in the churches dotting Insomnia. A young man, the shadowy figure from his childhood visits to the Crystal, had burst through it, entering their plane of existence like he was sliding smoothly into a pool of water.

Then he had to gall to vanish into blue particles before Regis could stop him!

Regis sprints around a turn and nearly runs into Clarus, a tall, broad man, and his Shield. “Clarus! There you are. I need to speak with you immediately.” Clarus steadies him.

“Can in wait, Regis? I promised to get home to Gladio as soon as possible, he wanted to see me before he went to bed, which means he’ll be asleep on the couch. You’re supposed to be sleeping too!”

Regis nearly snarls. “The Crystal broke, and a man burst out of it!” He turns and starts heading towards his office.

Silence.

“What do you mean the Crystal broke?” Clarus chokes out, his face turning white. He stumbles after Regis, who has started a furious pace towards his office.

“I mean it shattered! Broke apart. What do you think I meant?” Regis growled out. A few Crownsguard finishing up their shift saw him coming, and upon see his face, paled and shoved themselves through a side door.

Clarus continues after they’ve disappeared, “And some man just came out of it? Are you sure, Regis? Are you sure you’re not just sleep deprived? You have been busy with the council lately.” 

Regis growls, his voice echoing, and Clarus falls silent. He follows him, his speed picking up until he manages to nearly overtake Regis towards his office. The ornate door is shut tightly, left exactly as Regis left it early that night when he went to get Aulea to visit the Crystal.

Regis throws open his office door and stops short at the sight that greets him.

Clarus runs into his back. “Regis, what the fuck!”

Regis merely stares into his office. 

The young man who had emerged from the Crystal sits in his chair, cross-legged. The chair is spinning wildly, rocking back and forth like it is to tip over at any moment. His hands push against the large ornate desk, keeping his momentum from slowing down, and his giggles filtered through the air.

Regis steps further into the room and Clarus shuts and locks the door behind them. Upon hearing the lock click, the man looks up and sees them. His smile seems to stretch wider, and his hands latch onto the desk, digging dents where his fingertips landed. The chair whips back into place so everyone is facing each other.

The blond settles his feet onto the chair and rocks up, leaning over the desk, and greets, “Reggie!”

Clarus steps in front of Regis and commands, “Who are you, boy, and who let you into the King’s office? Let alone the Citadel!” The blond pouts and flops back into the chair.

Regis steps to the side so he can see the blond. “You are the figure in the Crystal, yes?”

Clarus whips his head around to stare at Regis as the blond nods his head. “This is the boy who appeared out of the Crystal? Seriously?”

“Yes, Clarus,” Regis replies. He turns towards the blonde and motions for him to move. The blonde seems to brighten, and Regis nearly closes his eyes against the light the boy seems to radiate. He flops back and sits cross-legged in Regis’s chair. 

Regis shakes his head. “No, I meant . . . never mind.” He sighs. “Come Clarus. Let us sit down and talk.” Clarus merely nods and follows Regis to the seats in front of the heavy desk.

Finally getting situated, Regis looks at the blond and asks, “Now that we seem to have finally calmed down, it would be wonderful to have your name, young man.”

The blond’s perpetual smile falters. “Um. Okay.” What follows is a string of syllables that Regis only vaguely recognizes as the tones of a familiar language.

“That’s the tongue of the Astrals!” Regis sees Clarus twitch in his seat. “You mean to say you are one of the Astrals?”

The blond shakes his head. His hands start to play with the shirt he’s wearing.

Regis hums. “It’s not quite the same. I couldn’t understand you, just the familiar tones and combinations, so could it be a different dialect?”

The blonde shakes his head again. “No. It’s the Old Tongue, an older form of what you complained about being the Astral language.”

Clarus nods. “Language does change over time, so it would make sense that someone who lived in a Crystal for years would speak the older version. But we still don’t know your name.”

The blond thinks for a minute. “I think it translates to Prompto . . . uhm, Argentum. Yeah, sounds right.” He pauses. “I think.”

“You think,” Clarus says. “Of course.”

“Clarus, enough,” Regis interjects. “Now, Prompto, when you came out of the Crystal it shattered. I’m concerned because the source of my, and all the Kingsglaive’s, power comes from the Crystal. Would you be able to tell us what happened?”

Prompto smiles. “Oh, that’s easy. The Crystal was never where your power came from.” He waves at himself. “I am.”

“What?”

“Clarus!” Regis repeats. “Please. Now, Prompto, could you please explain?”

“Well, the Crystal is not a source of power. It’s a . . . how do you say it, a sleeping place? Resting spot? It’s a place where I was to sleep for a very long time until I needed to wake up.”

“Okay, so now you needed to wake up?”

“Yes! The King of Light has come!”

“So my son is the King of Light?” Regis swallows. His son, the King of Light? The king who was to die to bring back the light? Regis did not think he would be the king to know his son would die for a great prophecy.

Prompto nods, and his smile seems brighter. “I am here to make sure the true prophecy comes to pass.”

Regis leans back and takes a deep breath. He can feel Clarus staring at him, probably with his own son in mind. The son who is going to guard a King who lives just to die at an early age. “So my son is going to die.”

Prompto frowns and tilts his head. “Well, yes. All of you humans die, do you not? I have listened to many kings mourn their predecessors as they came to receive their own power from me. You know this, Reggie. You came to me when your father died.”

“He means his son is going to die as the King who brings back the Light. Yeah, everyone dies but not at an early age and for a prophecy!” Clarus growls. “Do not dare to pretend you do not know of this.”

“No, no! What are you talking about?” Prompto asks. His frown deepens, and Regis feels the sudden urge to do something to make the smile come back. Only knowing the young man for a few hours, he knows Prompto is not meant to be frowning.

“The Great Prophecy given to us by the Astral, Bahamut. The King of Light will sacrifice his life to bring back the light to the world,” Regis paraphrases for him.

Prompto stares at him. “What.” He looks at Clarus, who nods, the faint lines in his face deepening. “But. . . what about the sacrifice of the Astrals? What about—,” a word that Regis doesn’t recognize comes out of Prompto’s mouth. It’s soft, despite Prompto’s previous fanatical tone, like it needs to be said with reverence. It has a lofty quality, like it could float away on the wind if Prompto had not stretched the syllables, cradled them in his mouth.

“What did you say?”

“What sacrifice of the Astrals?”

Prompto does not answer. His eyes have grown wide, the blue in his eyes nearly glowing. The pale features of his face seem to whiten even more, the freckles standing out. He starts speaking to himself in the Old Tongue, and Regis only manages to catch the words ‘dragon king’ before Prompto stands up. Regis and Clarus quickly follow suit.

“Prompto, what’s wrong?” Regis asks. Prompto turns to him and just looks at him. He watches as Prompto’s eyes dart around his face, searching his expression. He must have found what he was looking for because his face rearranges into one of determination. 

“I need to speak to someone.” And with that, Prompto flicks his wrist and he disappears in a sparkle of blue shards.

Clarus darts forwards. “What the fuck! Where did he go?”

Regis does not bother to look. “I imagine he went to speak with someone. Oh, do not give me that look Clarus. While he has denied being an Astral, he is still some sort of divine being. One that seems to be troubled by the Great Prophecy.”

“Troubled? It sounded more like he thought it was wrong.”

“Exactly,” Regis replied. “And since it seems he disagrees with allowing my son to die, I am willing to listen.”

“But he can’t just disappear in the middle of a conversation! We need to know what information he has.”

“I am not going to force him into a discussion when he seems to be looking for more information himself.” Regis starts his way out of the office now that there is no need to be there, especially since Aulea is waiting for him. “Plus, I doubt he would allow us to interrogate him.”

Clarus sputters. “Well, we need to do something!”

“Well, I am going to bed, and so should you,” Regis replies. “And tomorrow, we are going to do a little digging into the history behind the Great Prophecy.”


End file.
